


When I Find You

by Toroto



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2012-12-31
Packaged: 2017-11-23 01:50:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/616742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toroto/pseuds/Toroto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is always a reason that something happens... sometimes it just takes longer for you to learn what that reason is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I Find You

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone has always had a name on their palm... all but Dean

**What day is it  
And in what month?  
This clock never seemed so alive**

It had always been this way. As long as anyone could ever remember, as old as time itself perhaps. Ages written forever in the stars of times long lost and fantasies only destined to be forgotten. History only goes back so far and though legend is older than the written documents, it doesn’t span as far back as this one simple thing would require. Three simple words, written and engraved on your soul and your hand. It was how it had always been... and how it would always be. Two people who supposedly were meant to last the test of time, souls joined together in both this life and the next. First name, Middle, and Last, just like a written exam but this mattered so much more than one simple little grade would do.

It was the course of your life, engraved in your palm. There was only one little glitch. You couldn’t see it.

No, you might think that you were meant to see the name of the person you would spend the rest of your life with. You were supposed to seek them out full throttle and be with them forever. That isn’t the case. You, out of everyone in the world, could not see the name on your hand. It was like invisible ink that only your eyes don’t have the right glasses on to see. Oh, sure, you could see everyone elses... but you couldn’t see your own. Nor could anyone tell you what the name on your hand said. Only your soul mate could honestly speak the truth about if their name was on your hand... and would you believe them? Others can lie about it, others can deceive you into believing it was them... but you would never really know, now would you?

God’s hand dictated that you couldn’t go looking for your soul mate... you had to live your life and hope that the strings would cross. You could narrow out people on the streets as they walked by with just a small glance at their hand but you never could know, now could you?

**I can't keep up,  
and I can't back down  
I've been losing so much time**

Dean hated being alone. He hated watching the faces of those who found each other light up with a joy that he never thought he would ever know. Why? Because he didn’t have any human’s name on his hand. None. He trusted his brother, his father, his mother when they said that there was no name scribbled onto the palm of his hand. Nothing for him to hold onto. They wouldn’t lie to him... and there was nothing to keep them from telling the truth in regard to it.

He was alone... no one fit him.

Dean had watched one by one as the people he grew up with left or found their soulmates, Sam meeting his in college. A girl named Jessica and you could see instantly that they were meant to be with each other just like his mom and dad had been back when Mom was still alive. Now there was just a small red line scratched through Mom’s name when he looked at Dad’s hand. A symbol that he had lost the one he was meant to be with.

It was better to have lost it than to never have it at all.

Painful was the word for it. He was the only one in the world ever to not have someone on his hand. Not have the handwriting of his soul mate carved into his palm. He was destined for no one, meant for nothing but himself... and he hated that feeling. The knowledge shaped Dean into something he probably never would have been had there been someone to hope for. He wasn’t cold or heartless... but though there was a heart underneath everything to feel pain, it was covered with so many steel layers you couldn’t knock it down dynamite.

Because it hurt to know you were alone... and the only way to survive that was to pretend.

**'Cause it's you and me  
And all of the people with nothing to do  
Nothing to lose**

Fingers drummed against the wheel of the Impala for a moment, beating to a noise all it’s own. No music played in the background but it wasn’t needed. Silence couldn’t stopped the beat that was going through his head and his hands moved against the wheel absentmindedly to the song stuck on repeat. Surrounding the car was a wall of dark night, the only two things keeping him on the road were the infrequent street lights by the side of the highway and his headlights. Just normal sort of night diving to keep his head on straight.

It was how he relaxed himself when he had nothing better to do. The road at night, two a.m. when no one should be out and he had the dust and concrete to himself. Empty roads, empty bridges, overpasses and nothing to make him slow down from the endless drive. It cleared his head when he couldn’t think and let him relax when he couldn’t run away fast enough from the stress of the day.

However, it was sad to say that Dean wasn’t as alone on the highway as he might have thought.

On the same night, a trucker, age fifty-one, and much too tired to actually be cautiously driving at this time of night, pulled away past the stop that he should have turned into to get some shut eye. The man had thought that it would be alright to head another hour or two down the strip, save some extra time tomorrow when he delivered the hall. The eighteen wheeler moved quickly in the dark but the reactions of the brown haired, old man was not as quick... and neither, I am sad to say, was his ability to keep himself from dozing at the wheel.

Dean never saw him coming as he drove past the conjoining road. The driver still asleep at the wheel T-boned him going 60mph and with the speed of all that mass behind it, no one can survive.

The last thing he actually thought was that tune as white surrounded his vision and stayed there.

**And it's you and me  
And all the other people  
And I don't know why**

There is a reason for everything, you might say. There is always a reason if you look and dig and search hard enough. There had always been a reason behind Dean not having a name on his hand... even if he could never have imagined it would be the reason it was.

White blinked around him, a glow that should have burned his eyes from it’s sockets, but somehow only filled him with warmth. Slowly but surely, it faded to this fluorescent sense of home that he had never before felt. A sense of belonging and that everything, everything in the world was going to be alright.

When his eyes adjusted, all he could see was a man standing in front of him, face confused but otherwise stunning in the light of what seemed like the most sunny field you could imagine. Grass even was underneath him, tickling the soles of feet. Why didn’t he have shoes on anyway? Why was he here? Where was here?

A hand reached up to rub at the side of his face and then at his eyes, trying to get the blurry vision he was feeling to dissipate but no matter how much he rubbed, it wouldn’t work.

That was when he felt something smooth and raised rub against his face from his palm. Something foreign that he had never encountered before in his life.

Jerking his hand away, Dean couldn’t help but stare at a silver handwriting adorning his palm in one word. Castiel. Who the heck was Castiel... and why did he write on Dean’s hand? It actually took a full minute for Dean’s mind to slowly process what he was seeing beyond the shock. There was a name... on his hand. A name. At that point, Dean only thought it could be a dream. It wouldn’t be the first one he had where he had his soulmates name on his hand... but never in those dreams did he actually get to see what his palm said. Something had always stopped him from looking.

“Dean Winchester.”

**I can't keep my eyes off of you**

Eyes darted up and over to the man in the field across from him and he half expected him to imagine the voice... but the same man was there, glancing not at Dean but at his own palm in confusion as if something there perplexed the man. “Dean Winchester?” The man spoke again, voice still gruff but just as mixed with confusion. It was as if... as if the man didn’t even realize Dean was there. Time to fix that.

“That would be me, yah. What’s it got to do with you?” Dean asked questioningly as he looked around him again. Where the hell was this? Had he been unconscious or something? The last thing Dean remembered was that blank stretch of road and a melody he couldn’t actually pinpoint that had been stuck in his head.

One second passed before blue eyes snapped up to meet his own. Very... very blue eyes. Dean’s breath caught in his throat for some reason he couldn’t describe and all the blue eyes man across from him did was peer at Dean even more with a scrutinizing demeanor.

“You... you’re Dean Winchester?” The voice was just as rough and deep, but slightly less confused than it been when Dean had first heard it... and it literally brought goose bumps to his arms. Freaking Goose bumps. Those were for girls, for crying out loud, why the hell was he getting them over just some guy’s voice.

“I just said that, didn’t I, oh bright one. Now please do me a favor and tell me where the hell I am?” He snapped back, voice irritated more because of his own girliness than at the guy himself. The guy didn’t do anything that Dean was aware of to elicit the glare Dean was giving him... but he couldn’t help but send it that way anyway.

What, however, the man said, wasn’t expected at all.

“You’re in Heaven. My apologies, Dean, but you were hit by an eighteen wheeler in Illinois just moments ago. You died on impact though the driver who hit you will live through this.”

What. the. hell.

“You’re saying I’m dead? This is Heaven? It looks like the forest behind my house for God’s sakes, not heaven! Who the hell are you anyway? My welcoming committee? Put my back on earth. I can’t die just yet.”

He shouldn’t be so upset, he realized, because he was dead. There was nothing he could do about it... now was there. He was dead and he was going to stay dead by the look on the man’s face and the grave but slightly sympathetic look he had.

What really shocked Dean, however, was the fact that he could not think of one thing back on earth that he should need to return to. Sam had Jess... and though he would grieve, hopefully, he would live on. Dad... well Dad barely even recognized that anyone was alive anymore. He would miss Dean in the drunken stupor he was normally in. There was nothing... to go back to.

“My name is Castiel... and no, I am not your welcoming committee. I am an angel of the Lord.” The man looked around again at the landscape as if he was hesitant on continuing.

Castiel... like... the Castiel on his hand? Dean’s mouth opened for a moment much like a fish in surprise would and looked down at his hand again. Castiel, plain and simple, right there sparkling with a silvery white glow on Dean’s palm. Castiel. Castiel. Castiel. Dean tried to rub at it with the pad of his thumb, test it’s authenticity... but it wasn’t ink. That was actually there. It was even raised out of the skin much akin to a burn... but it didn’t hurt.

“You said my name earlier... how did you know it?” Dean finally felt the need to ask, own thoughts so jumbled up that he could barely stand up under the weight of them all. Funny that thoughts could make you want to sit down and just put your head in your hands.

Castiel stepped a bit closer, breaching the distance that was between them with slow measured steps one at a time till if Dean wanted to, he could reach out and punch Castiel’s shoulder. A fist was held in front of Dean, fingers slowly uncurling one by one till they were stretched wide with palm facing up.

His name... that was his name on this man’s hand.

Dean couldn’t help but just stare at his own handwriting written in a copper ink on this man’s palm, every curve and jagged edge of his name written exactly as he did when writing his signature.

“I have never had a name on my hand... angels don’t have names... but I suppose it’s customary for you to show me yours as well?” Dean nodded slowly Castiel’s words and almost shellshocked opened his own palm for the angel, he was talking with a freaking angel, to look at. The glow from each hand of their hands brightened at the proximity, the handwriting shining a more vivid shade of their appointed color.

The lights didn’t die down but Dean did glance up as they grew stronger, inching his own fingers towards the angels bit by bit till they were side by side... then touching. The light flared again, more brightly now than ever before... and then everything began to burn white along with it, a mix of colors that Dean couldn’t even put a name to shining behind his eyes.

With the light... as he let himself become surrounded by it, was two thoughts. One, was the song. He remembered the song... and the promise behind it. The second was just a stray murmur in his head, a passing of breath like a sigh as his mind finally consented: I have finally, finally found you.

**'Cause it's you and me  
** And all of the people with nothing to do  
Nothing to lose  
And it's you and me and all of the people  
And I don't know why  
I can't keep my eyes off of you and me  
And all the other people with nothing to do  
Nothing to prove  
And it's you and me and all the other people  
And I don't know why  
I can't keep my eyes off of you 

**Author's Note:**

> Song: You and Me by Lifehouse  
> Written for: Phee <3 Adie's (#18786) on aywas cause she made me a shiny art thingy


End file.
